Chronicles of a Grey Warden
by Night Kunoichi
Summary: There are 365 days in a year. And there were 365 days of traveling by the Grey Warden before the defeat of the Archdemon. This is the journey of a ragtag band of heroes, led by a human noble who lost everything. All of them united for different reasons but working towards the same goal: Salvation.


**A/N: I'm practically bursting with this idea so I HAVE to get it out before my brain explodes. This tale will not always be exactly like the story line. Either way, hope you enjoy! :3**

Day 1:

They say that a journey starts with a single step. I have discovered that this is not true. For every journey I've made begins when I open my eyes. For how can you take the step if you have yet to awaken to do so? Any journey begins as soon as your day does. And just like any other, my adventure began when I opened my eyes to the sound of my faithful Mabari, Pierce, growling and snarling at the thick wooden door to my bedroom.

"What is it boy?" I asked, my voice hoarse from sleep.

He growled and barked again, his hackles bristled and his powerful frame tense. There had never been a time in my life where I so quickly leapt out of bed. I strapped on what armor I could, clumsily, feeling that the clanging of metal would alert the entire castle that I was up and about. But then I realized that likely no one would hear me for I could hear a tremendous racket reverberating through the castle walls like a distant celebration. Yet I knew that it was no party that raised such noise because in that chaotic chorus, I could hear screams. After I was safely strapped into my armor, I snatched up my sword and shield, clutching them tightly as I came to the side of Pierce, who was still growling. I slowly tried to open the door but I knew that it wasn't quiet. For starters the hinges had a horribly shrill squeak that makes it impossible for anyone to open without a sound.

That door has been the bane of my existence many times in my life. Before now it was simply because it made it impossible to sneak back into my room after bed time. Of course, well-oiled hinge or not, I still couldn't do it as I am about as sneaky as a raging Bronto in a Chantry sermon. My steps are much too loud, my sword and shield always clang together in a very conspicuous manner and my breath is much too noisy. Now, however, instead of banging together my weapons were bumping against the wood of the frame and the door.

"Over there! I hear something!"

'Sod it.' I thought and kicked the door open, abandoning all subtlety.

There were soldiers, three of them, clad in heavy armor and carrying heavy swords that could easily cleave through my collarbone. I did not pay attention to the insignia they bore; I only focused on the threat that they posed. Pierce charged first and leapt upon one of the assailants, biting and tearing at his throat, a spray of blood following the attack. I responded quickly afterwards, bashing another soldier with my shield and sending him stumbling backwards. I swiftly sliced through his neck, ensuring that he got no other opportunity to strike. However I was then knocked backwards by a powerful blow and I found the world blurring before me before I was forcefully met with the ground.

"Hello floor…" I muttered before rolling to the side to avoid the sword that nearly cut into me, "Glad you could join the celebration."

A booted foot met harshly with my side and then again with my shield, sending it skidding across the stone floor, far beyond my reach. I swung my sword up to block the oncoming attack of the soldier looming dangerously over me, a sneer on his face. The metal screeched and wailed as the two of us pitted our strength against one another but I knew it would only be a matter of time before he physically overpowered me.

Apparently, he had not the patience to wait, for he kicked my sword out of my hand and it too became out of reach. Viciously he pressed a booted foot onto my chest to hold me in place. I squirmed and wrestled and did everything I could to free myself but nothing was effective. There was a blur of brown followed by vicious barking and suddenly the guard was gone. It took me only a moment to realize that Pierce had tackled my assailant to the ground and began tearing his teeth into his soft flesh.

When I heard my faithful Mabari yelp in pain, I darted up, my shield and sword back in my grasp, to see an archer a few feet away taking aim at my dog. I grew angry, furious and I charged forward with a yell out of anger and with the intent to distract the soldier from Pierce. No one messed with my dog. Not without getting hurt. The soldier took aim and fired but I took cover behind my shield; the arrow glancing off the steel noisily.

"Don't you touch my dog, filth!" I spat, barreling forward again.

The soldier took aim again but this time, at my feet, hoping to incapacitate me. I swore at his change of action and swerved and darted around as best as I could, but I am not exactly a jackrabbit. If he was anywhere remotely a decent shot with that bow, then he would likely still hit me and then I would be immobilized or close to it.

I ground my teeth together and curled my lip in a snarl as I barreled toward the archer in hopes of taking him out before he fired the next shot, but it soon became very clear that I would not reach him in time. Then suddenly his eyes shot open and a moist gurgle bubbled in his throat, blood oozing out of his mouth. A red coated arrow tip protruded from the front of his throat, filling his trachea rapidly with fluid. He crumpled lifelessly to the ground and standing behind him was a very familiar woman.

"Sage!" she cried.

"Mother!"

We embraced each other, however awkwardly due to our armor and weapons.

"Are you alright, darling? Are you hurt?"

"I'm alright. What about you?" I asked fearfully, looking her over but I saw no injuries.

"None worse for wear. What's going on? Those are Arl Howe's men!"

My blood turned to ice at that statement and I sharply turned my head to examine the fallen soldiers, hoping that she was mistaken. Like mother had said, their armor and shields bore his crest and horror struck through me. Our closest family friend betrayed us when we were most vulnerable. Then my shock transformed into white-hot rage.

"He betrays father! He attacks us while our troops are away!" I cried.

"You don't think his men were stalled on purpose? That…that bastard. I'll cut his lying throat myself!"

I paled at the next thought, "What of Oriana and Oren?"

"They're not with you?"

"No I only just got out here. We should check on them now."

We burst through the doors to my brother's room only to be greeted with blood and corpses. Oriana was sprawled in the blood ungracefully, not at all how she was in life and her eyes were still wide with shock and fear. Sorrow in my heart, I knelt down and closed her eyes with my fingers. Nearby was little Oren, his small frame seemingly broken against the stone floor. I choked on a sob when I saw a wooden sword lying by his hand. The wooden sword I gave him.

"Oh Maker….We got here too late….Oren, Oriana… I'm so sorry…." My mother said, choking back tears like I was.

"Where is father?" I asked, tearing my gaze away from the horrible sight before me.

"I don't know. He never came to bed last night. We must find him! What if he's hurt?"

"Then we should get moving."

Mother and I did not speak as we fought our way through the castle. She stayed back, picking off enemies with her bow while Pierce and I charged into the soldiers, ruthlessly cutting them down in our search for father. In no time I was blood-soaked and breathless but still burning with anger and rage. I had wondered why Howe looked so uncomfortable and almost guilty when I came by just to wish him well yesterday and now I knew why. He had planned this the whole time and never in my life had I felt more betrayed than I did then.

"There's the vault! I have the key right here. The Cousland Sword and Shield of Highever are inside. Howe should not be allowed to hold them. They should work to severe his treacherous hand!"

Mother nearly knocked me over, pushing by so she could get to the door and unlock it. The sword, for a family heirloom, seemed unremarkable other than the fact that it was crafted from grey iron and the tip of the blade was slightly serrated. However it was considerably lighter than my own sword and I eagerly ditched my original blade to dawn the weapon of my family line. The shield was made of the same material as the sword but in its face were nicks and scratches from previous battles. Regardless, I wore the shield with pride, now wishing that my enemy's last sight was the Cousland crest that was still boldly splayed across the metal.

Waiting for us outside was at least seven soldiers; one an officer of some kind. I swore and threw myself head long into battle, hoping to keep them effectively distracted and away from mother. Pierce followed right behind me, barking and baying before launching himself onto a soldier, teeth going for the throat. Two more dropped before I could engage them, felled by mother's arrows. That still left me with four soldiers to handle. I held up my shield, trying to let it take the brunt of most of the blows before swinging out with my own sword.

The edge of my blade sliced into the stomach of a soldier that was too slow to block my attack. He yelled before falling to his knees. With the other three men moving quickly to strike me with their own weapons, it would take too long to deliver a finishing blow. Instead, I kicked him squarely in the face, hearing his nose crunch from the impact and falling back to the floor. My shield blocked a lethal blow just in time, the force of the blow forcing my body down for a moment. A sword found its way into the flesh of my right arm, causing me to snarl in pain before I struck the hapless man in the face with the pommel of my own blade. I screeched when something cut into my back, despite the armor that was supposed to protect me, my arms curling back so my shoulder blades were pressing inward, as if this would ease the pain of the wound.

The world spun as I was hit across the face with something hard and I toppled to the ground. I was momentarily stunned before I rolled over only to find the officer swinging down a rather large axe and it was almost upon me. I scrambled out of the way, rolling to the side when I felt an explosion of pain over my left eye before it all went black. Instead of the screech I emitted earlier when I had the officer dig into my back, I out right screamed in agony and dropped my weapons to clutch my eye. Blood oozed between my fingers and down my face and my right eye was clouding up with tears, rendering it impossible to see.

I heard Pierce bark aggressively and I heard the distinct thud of bodies hitting the ground. I could hear the snap of the bow string and the whistle of the arrows. And I could hear the cries of pain from the soldiers but I still would not pull my hands away from over my eye. It hurt more than I could ever imagine! I tried to blink but the movement inflicted more pain and more agony, I yelled again at the sensation.

"Oh Andraste, PLEASE! Make it STOP!" I wailed, my limbs trembling.

"Sage! Sage? Are you-? Oh Maker have mercy!" Mother exclaimed after prying my hands away from my face, "I have a poultice right here! Just-just hold still. This should help!"

Pierce whined and scooted himself by my side, pressing against me. When mother told me that she was going to put the salve on my eye, I gripped my dog's fur, fingers digging deep. He endured the hold without a sound, and rested his head upon my thigh after giving a friendly lick.

"Now dear, this is going to hurt."

"JUST DO IT, DAMMIT!" I shouted, the pain almost unbearable.

Her finger smeared the thick paste onto my eye and the pressure alone made me scream again, begging the Maker for mercy. I clenched my hand so tight that I felt some of Pierce's blood bubble up through is fur and seep under my fingernails. Yet he remained silent, staying my steady rock as I fought my way through the agony.

After several minutes lying on the ground, whimpering, the pain finally eased, but it was clear that I would no longer be able to use my left eye again. When at last I was on my feet, we went to a nearby bed room and tore off a segment of one of the bed linens to create a make-shift eye patch. Then we were off again, cutting down any opponents that got in our way. Our search brought us into the main hall where there was a company of our soldiers holding the gates even against the monstrous thuds that were beating from the other side.

"Ser Gilmore!" I cried, dashing forward.

"My Lady! Thank the Maker you two are safe! But, your eye…. It looks like my fears were correct, some of the Arl's men did get through."

"They did." My mother said, "Where is Bryce? Have you seen him?"

"I just saw my lord not too long ago. He was badly injured. He said he was going to wait by the servants' exit in the kitchens."

"How goes the battle here?"

"It's all we can do to just hold them back. But they will break through eventually. You two should leave now and get to safety." Ser Gilmore told us.

"Let me help you defend the gates! We can beat them back together!" I insisted.

He shook his head, "No, my lady. What we are doing here is only delaying the inevitable. Once they break through, we will surely be overrun."

"Then come with us! Please!" I begged.

"I cannot, my lady. I joined your guard with the duty to defend you and this castle. And I will die to fulfill that honor."

Tears spilled over my eyes as I looked at the soldier standing before me. Ser Gilmore had been a good friend of mine in addition to being a castle guard. I remember us playing together when we were children and he had always protected me, whether I needed it or not. I knew that regardless of what I said, he would not leave this post; he would stand and defend it until his death. I tackled him in a tight hug, squeezing tightly, knowing that once I let him go, it would be the last time I saw him. He returned the hug, his face buried into my hair.

"It has been an honor to serve you, my lady."

"It has been an honor to call you friend, Ser Gilmore."

Reluctantly, I parted from the embrace and still felt the tears pooling in my eyes.

Mother gave him a hug of her own, "May the Maker watch over you."

"May he watch over us all."

Mother and I headed towards the kitchen where we found father sprawled on the ground. Blood was oozing thickly beneath his hand which was pressed desperately against his stomach. His skin was white as death and he looked exhausted.

"Father!" I cried, dashing forward to help him.

"Thank the Maker you both are safe. Oh, pup, your eye."

"I'm fine father." I told him gripping his hand tightly.

"Bryce! What's happened?" Mother asked, placing her hands on his stomach to try and help stop the flow of blood.

"Howe's men…found me first…..almost did me in right there….I won't last much longer."

"Don't talk like that, father!" I exclaimed in horror, tossing my long black braid out of the way, "You'll be fine. The servants' passage is right there!"

"I will not survive the standing, I think."

My single green eye drifted downwards towards the wound on his stomach and I noticed that it was more than just a slash. My father was literally holding his insides in with his hand. He really would not make it. Tears began streaming from my eyes when it became abundantly clear that my father wasn't going to last the hour.

The door was then kicked open and I leapt to my feet, sword and shield ready for combat. The opportunity to attack was never given to me for the soldier who burst through the door was cut down from behind by Duncan. My heart swelled with hope when the Grey Warden entered the kitchen. It somehow felt that because he was here, everything would be alright.

"Duncan!" My father begged, "Please…please get my family out of here."

"I will get your family out of the castle." said Duncan, "But I'm afraid I must ask for something in return."

"Anything!"

"What you see here pales in comparison to the evil brewing in the south. I came to this castle seeking a recruit. The darkspawn threat demands I leave with one."

A look of pain passed over my father's face, "I…understand."

"I'll fetch Ser Gilmore." I said promptly, heading towards the door.

"Truthfully you were always my first choice. Fight with the Grey Wardens." Duncan admitted.

"I'm not leaving my father!" I protested.

"Please, pup. You must. Howe must pay for the treachery he has done tonight."

"Absolutely not! I am not leaving you here to be slaughtered!"

"Pup," My father said chidingly, "I will not survive, I will only slow you down. It will be difficult enough to get out as it is."

"What your father says is true." Duncan told me, "Howe's men may not have discovered the servants' entrance but the castle is surrounded, getting past will be a challenge."

"I…" I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat, "I….understand…Maker keep you, father."

"Sage," Mother said, kneeling down next to father, "Go with Duncan. It will be easier if there is just the two of you and I can't leave your father."

"Mother, no!" I exclaimed shrilly.

"Please, darling, we have lived our lives but you MUST survive this. I will stay with your father until the very end."

"No, I can't allow this. Let me stay and fight with you!"

"We will not win, darling. You know this…"

My lower lip trembled as I realized that nothing was going to make my mother change her mind. I was going to lose both of my parents tonight and there would be nothing I could do to stop it. With tears in my eyes, I embraced both of them tightly, trembling and sniffling. This would be the last time I would ever see them or hold them.

"I love you both….so, so much." I whispered, as if that would save them.

"We love you too, pup."

When Duncan settled a hand onto my shoulder, a silent way of telling me we had to leave, I pulled away. It took every ounce of my strength to turn my back on my parents and head out the servants' door. I looked back once and the last sight I saw of my family was my mother standing over my father, firing arrows at soldiers who had broken through the door. I left my home flooding in blood.

Day 2:

It's difficult to wake up to the knowledge that you've lost everything. Within the course of a few hours, everything I loved, everyone I loved had been destroyed. Nan, Oren, Oriana, Ser Gilmore, Mother and Father; all gone because of one man's evil. The truth that I had nothing left hit me hard and I was overtaken with grief. I tried to take my own life. Duncan stopped me. I hated him for it.

Day 3:

The world no longer held the beauty it once had to me. The sun was too bright, the clouds were too fluffy and everything looked so painfully happy it made me sick. What right did the world have to be so cheerful when my home and family all lie in ashes? It felt that if I had stayed behind, stood alongside mother to defend father, somehow we would have decimated every last soldier that came through that door. That somehow, despite the odds, we would have won and we could begin cleaning up the castle and contacting the king. We would then mourn and move on with our lives. But I knew better. I would have been slaughtered alongside my family and the world would have never learned the truth. But that didn't make it any less painful.

I gave Duncan the silent treatment, behaving far younger than I really was but I was determined to blame him for the deaths of my parents. I knew that he could not take blame for the betrayal of Howe, but deep inside, I saw him as the person who took me away from my family and home. And it was all gone. So I hated him, resented him. Even though it was never and would never be his fault.

Day 4:

I changed from not speaking to Duncan to giving him as much trouble and attitude as I could. I wanted him to feel guilt, to suffer for the death of my family. But regardless of what I did or said, he remained unaffected and he tolerated my abhorrent behavior. I think that made me even more frustrated and angry that regardless of what I did, he remained unperturbed.

That night I began crying and despite all that I had done and said to him, he still offered whatever consoling words he could. He told me that their deaths were not in vain and I could bring Howe to justice for his betrayal. Sometimes we have to lose something to gain our purpose, to know what we were meant to do. It was as I was falling asleep that night that I realized that while Duncan may have taken me away, I agreed to go. In the end, it had been my decision.

Day 5:

I did not say a word the entire day. I was too busy wallowing in my self-pity and loathing.

Day 6:

The sun seemed to shine a bit brighter. I felt that I wasn't as heavy and that somehow I would have the will to go on. I was far from my usual feisty and joking self but it was a step in the right direction. My head was held up instead of hanging. Duncan smiled when he saw me moving faster but said nothing; as if everything would shatter the moment he acknowledged I was improving. He was probably right to do so.

Day 7:

The day was bleary and rain-filled. With the harsh cold of Ferelden, it made things miserable and nearly unbearable but still we trudged on. Within an hour of my waking, I was soaked and freezing to the bone and grouchy. Most of the day I stayed quiet but I grew irate and snippy whenever Duncan spoke to me. But like the entire week, he said nothing and put up with my behavior.

Day 8:

It rained again and yet I felt better than the day before because the knowledge that we were but a day away from Ostagar lifted my spirits. Tomorrow I would see my brother; the only family I had left. The news I bring would not be pleasant to tell but he needed to know. And I would hug him tight, so much so that I would be loath to release him.


End file.
